The Curious Incident of the Prefect's Bathroom
by JKButcher
Summary: On a certain night it would seem that the intrepid trio all have reasons for taking a bath. But as they say, getting there is half the adventure.


A/N: My return to fanfic. It's hardly triumphant, but it's a start. This fic resulted from a challenge from one of my friends. The terms of the challenge aren't important.

**The Mysterious Incident of the Prefect's Bathroom in the Nightime **

**by J.K. Butcher **

Harry had been looking forward to a good bath all day long. The quidditch pitch had been most unkind to him that evening. It had been raining steadily for weeks, and the ground was soggier than Gilderoy Lockhart's brain as a consequence. Harry hadn't been intending to spend much time on the ground, no Quidditch player of his ilk did, but a flash of lightning had blinded him momentarily just as he was about to pull out of a perfect Wronski Feint. He never did pull out.

Harry had left a 10 metre long furrow in the muck, and was covered from head to toe in foul smelling mud. Of course it would have to be the week that Hagrid fertilized the field with Dragon dung, didn't it? Harry had gotten back onto his broom and finished practice of course, he wouldn't have been much of a captain otherwise, but he was given a wide berth for the rest of the team's workout. The shower in the locker room had helped some, but he had wanted to get back to the castle before dark, so as to not get in trouble with Filch, or worse, Snape.

Now Harry was standing in front of the fourth door to the left of Boris the Bewildered and wearing his invisibility cloak to keep him from being detected.

"Lemony Fresh," he whispered, hoping that the password had not been changed again. Not that it was ever hard to guess, this one. Luckily, the door swung open with a creak, and Harry stepped inside. The room never failed to take Harry's breath away. The bright white marble walls had golden inflections that reflected the dancing candlelight and made for a romantic atmosphere. Above the mammoth bath a picture of a mermaid hung, it's subject basking in the sun, tail lolling about lazily.

Harry disrobed and tossed his clothes into a corner haphazardly. The stench of Dragon dung was much stronger now that his skin was exposed. He carefully set the invisibility cloak over by one of the bathroom stalls where he could see it, and, carrying his glasses, headed towards the tub. There were a multitude of spigots that flowed into the tub, each yielding water with a unique scent, flavor, or even texture. Picking the water you wanted to bathe in was sometimes more fun than the bath itself. Harry had taken baths ranging from water that smelled like champagne and had a rose petal texture, to a water so think it was like a mud bath. Well, he certainly didn't need one of those tonight.

Harry was just about to turn on the water from his favorite tap (it smelled very similar to the way Ginny did and was smooth as silk), when he was startled to hear the door creak open behind him. Though he dropped his glasses in surprise, his Seeker reflexes were at the ready. Harry sprung backwards away from the tub and towards his invisibility cloak desperate for a bit of cover. He'd been seen au natural in this bathroom once before, and he had no desire whatsoever to repeat the experience. He managed to tug the cloak about himself just before the door to the bathroom opened all the way.

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Hermione Granger desperately needed to get out of her clothes.

She'd spent the first part of her night in the same room as Parvati and Lavender, and she had been feeling very dirty because of it. As much as she grew weary of listening to Ron and Harry discuss Quidditch all day long, she would have much rather put up with that for the last three hours than her two classmates discussing boys, fashion, boys, boys, makeup, male professors, boys, haircuts, and more boys. It was about the time the two of them had started to discuss the relative hotness of Professor Snape that she decided to leave.

At first she'd wandered the halls aimlessly under the guise of looking out for troublemakers. She was a prefect after all, but eventually she had found her path leading her towards the trophy room. The cases were always lighted at night, she didn't know why, back in the Muggle world it would have been a waste of energy, but here she had no idea how they stayed lit. She made a note to look into that the next time she went through _Hogwarts: A History_. Contrary to popular belief, she didn't have the whole book memorized, just the parts that were useful for telling off Ron. Hermione couldn't help but let out a sigh.

"Hello, Granger," drawled an unfortunately familiar voice. "Fancy meeting a girl like you in a place like this."

"Hello, Malfoy," Hermione retorted, attempting to project as much loathing as is possible in two short words. She turned to face the one individual she was hoping to avoid tonight. "I do hope that by 'a girl like you,' you actually mean 'a girl who scares the hell out of me,' but if you didn't, you will," she said, quite proud of herself for coming up with it.

"Those are awfully strong words for a Mudblood," spat Malfoy. He was looking paler than usual, and his face was gaunt; his eyes withdrawn. Unfortunately he was still as big a git as ever. "Perhaps you'd like to take them back?" he asked warningly. Hermione shook her head. The logical side of her brain was starting to prevail. "No? Then perhaps I can give them back to you." Draco took two steps towards Hermione but that was as far as he could get before he found her wand jutting into his neck.

"One more step and you'll wish you were a bouncing ferret," she snarled. Malfoy looked momentarily surprised.

"I see..." Draco's surprise did not last long. The corners of his lips began to twitch, and Hermione could see the comback forming behind his eyes. "For you, dearest Mudblood, I would do anything." What was he playing at?

"The only thing I want from you Malfoy is to leave my friends and I alone, understand?" Hermione was scared of the implications of Malfoy's last statement, and now she was hoping to just get out of the trophy room in one piece.

"Are you certain that's all you want from me? I've seen the way you look at me, the light in your eyes when you see me enter a -"

"Are you delusional? Have you hit your head on so-" Hermione was shrinking away from Draco now, though her wand was still planted firmly on his neck. As Hermione moved backwards, Draco moved forward, causing the gap between them to remain constant.

"The way you blush when you hear my voice." Against her will, Hermione could feel her face flushing even now.

"Stop i-,"

"I'll stop when you confess that you think of me at night, just before you go to sleep and in the morning when you get dressed. Why I bet you wore that sexy little number you have on now just for me." The sneer was now fully formed on Draco's face; his sunken eyes alight with icy grey fire.

Hermione was at her wits' end. Tears had welled up in her eyes, and Draco had backed her up so far that her back was pressed up against the wall. Draco stopped coming forward and looked her up and down. He nodded approvingly, paying no mind to the wand he stuck into him. "I approve," he whispered.

Without warning, sparks flew out the end of Hermione's wand, and Draco lept backwards yelping. Hermione dropped her wand in surprise. "You bitch!" he roared as he delicately felt his throat. There was a circular black mark present, apparently a burn. "You'll pay for that!" Draco whipped out his own wand and levelled it at Hermione. She had shrunk so far down the wall that she was nearly sitting. Her legs were pressed tightly together, an absurd amount of pressure seemed to be collapsing in on her from all angles, and she was shaking violently.

_"Diffindo!" _Draco's wand slashed downward and Hermione's left sleeve was suddenly bunching at her wrist, exposing her pale arm. She shuddered sharply, and tried to call for help but the most she could manage was a faint whimper. _"Diffindo!" _Hermione's right sleeve joined her left in slipping down her arm. She tried to struggle to her feet, to do anything she could to save herself, but her panic was too strong for her to think clearly, and her limbs were like jelly.

_"Diffindo!" _Draco's sneer was steadily intensifying, and it was now possible to see his teeth. "Very nice, Mudblood," he drawled slowly, making Hermione painfully aware of each and every word. She clutched desperately at her skirt trying to keep it from sliding off of her hips. Draco had split it down the front, all the way from the waist line to the hem. "Red underwear? You must have been expecting me."

"Dr-Draco..." she finally managed to stammer.

"Yes?" He answered with an air of invincibility, and strode toward her with a menace in his step that Hermione had never seen before. He bent over her and placed his hand beneath her chin, forcing her to look up at him. She could feel the hatred burning behind her eyes, and only hoped that Draco could see it. "Is this your first time?" he asked, disdain dripping from his every pore. Hermione gasped, finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. "Or has the Weasel taken you out behind that shed he calls his house and had his way with you?" He grinned cheekily. "Either way you've never had a real man." He pulled her face towards his and forced his tongue into her mouth. She clawed at the floor trying to get away, only to be stymied by the wall at her back. She bit down as hard as she could.

_"Petrificus Totalus!" _Hermione was so stunned and scared that it took a moment for her brain to begin working again. Draco Malfoy had frozen in place above her, his face contorted into a look halfway between rage and pleasure. His tongue was in the process of licking blood off of his lip. The blood itself was dripping down his chin and then falling onto her inner thigh. Inner thigh? Oh Merlin! Hermione pushed backwards on Malfoy as hard as she could and he tipped over backwards, rolling slightly due to the curve of his back. Tears streaming down her face, she grabbed the remains of her skirt and and got to her feet.

"Hermione-" Ron Weasley was standing in the door to the Trophy Room, a look of utter disbelief on his face. "Were you- Was he- I-..." Hermione had no time to explain, she raced past Ron, ducking underneath his wand arm, still outstretched from the curse he'd thrown at Malfoy.

She needed to get out of these clothes. What Malfoy was going to do to her... she couldn't bear to think about it. She couldn't go back to the common room, not like this. Her roomates wouldn't give her any peace at all. But she needed to get out of these clothes. He said that they looked good on her. She made a mental note to burn her outfit in the Gryffindor common room fire the first opportunity she got.

She rounded a corner at top speed and ran smack dab into Boris the Bewildered. The prefects bathroom would be empty at this hour, she could use it to get naked. To get clean.

"Lemony fresh," she whispered with a quivering voice.

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Harry could hardly believe his eyes. Of course with out his glasses, he really _didn't_ believe his eyes. All he knew was that a very fuzzy girl had walked into the room and started to disrobe. Harry did the only sensible thing. He turned around and studied the chamber pot intently.

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When Hermione entered the Prefect's bathroom it was all she could do to keep from slumping over onto the floor and curling up inot a ball. Her hands were shaking, her skirt was a mess, and she didn't want to think about what might have happened if Ron hadn't shown up. Ron... she also didn't want to think about what Ron might be thinking right now. Did he think that she and Draco had actually been... how had it looked to him? The thought that Ron might believe her to have been a willing participant broke her already shattered resolve.

She dropped her skirt and kicked it to the side angrily. So Draco thought that he could treat her like that? She wasn't a doormat to be walked all over. Hell no. She was going to devise a thousand ways to exact revenge on Mr. Draco Malfoy, each one more painful than the last. Hermione was trying to get her shirt off while thinking about all of this but was having a hard time of it because her hands were shaking so badly. Not caring one way or the other, she ripped the shirt off sending buttons flying everywhere. Take that Draco!

Now dressed only in her skivvies (she couldn't believe she'd worn her red underwear... tonight of all nights) she went over to the tub and turned on all of the spigots full blast. Tonight was not a night for being choosy.

"Nice bloomers." A high pitched female voice from somewhere above her startled Hermione so much that she lost her balance and fell head first into the filling tub.

"Just what I needed," mumbled Hermione. "Moaning Myrtle." The ghost was hovering near the ceiling above the tub. She had the slightest hint of a smile. "You nearly scared me to death, Myrtle," said Hermione. Myrtle's smile vanished instantly.

"Scared you to death? SCARED YOU TO DEATH!" Myrtle started to wail unintelligably and dove down the drain of the tub, making sure to pass through Hermione on her way. The chill of having a ghost pass through you is intense, and for the second time in less than an hour Hermione found herself shivering. But at least she was alone again. It pleased her to think that one of her plans had worked. A little bit of normalcy had returned to the world.

Standing in the now full tub, Hermione realized it was silly to have her bra and panties on still, so she removed them and tossed them to the side of the tub. She began to pace back and forth in the tub plotting ways to get revenge on Malfoy. She could use Polyjuice potion on Justin Finch-Fletchley and have him imitate Pansy. Hermione new that Justin would jump at the chance to snog Malfoy. If she timed it just right, that could lead to an interesting situation. Hermione was just about lost in her visions of Malfoy snogging Justin in the Great Hall during the awarding of the house Cup when she stepped on something at the bottom of the tub. She felt whatever it was break underneath her foot.

"That's odd," she mumbled. She ducked her head under the water to have a look, her eyes landing on what appeared to be a pair of glasses. She did a sort of half flip in the water and felt along the bottom with her hands, trying to find the other part.

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Ron Weasley's night had been going fairly well. Quidditch practice had gone well, and he'd saved just about all of the shots the Chasers had managed to get off. He'd then gone back to Gryffindor tower and snogged Lavender for a good while before he started to worry about where Harry and Hermione were. Not that he was really worried about Hermione of course, he was just... interested. Mumbling an excuse to Lavender about Prefect duties or something of the sort, he set off through the castle not entirely sure what he would find.

The halls were quiet, though of course the fact that it was after hours probably had a lot to do with that.

Where was she? Wait... where were they? Not that Ron really cared all that mu... oh who was he kidding.

Wait, was that her? No, Ron had heard a shout from the vicinity of the trophy room but it sounded like Malfoy. But still... maybe he'd better check it out. Knowing that wherever Malfoy was, trouble couldn't be too far away, Ron pulled out his wand and prepared himself to walk in on just about anything. However, as Ron rounded the final corner and entered the trophy room, he found he was woefully deficient in his ability to grasp the situation he was watching unfold. Draco Malfoy was bent over what appeared to be a girl with bright red knickers, and he was... he was kissing her. And it looked like...

Ron didn't think.

_"Petrificus Totalus!"_

Malfoy's body went ridgid, but Ron felt a sense of fear creep into him that he had hit Hermione as well. She wasn't really moving either. There! He saw her shake a little. Oh, and there was blood too... Ron traced the little river of blood down Hermione's inner thigh. He knew he should look away, but he stood as though rooted to the spot. Suddenly, she stirred. She struggled to her feet. Ron could see that she was a mess, her sleeves were bunched around her wrists and she was struggling mightily to keep her skirt useful.

"Hermione?" he said softly. "Were you- Was he- I-..." But Hermione did not answer him. Didn't even look at him. And it hurt. It hurt.

Ron stood still in stunned silence for what seemed like an eternity. Malfoy lay on the ground on his back, unable to move. Was this a planned meeting between the two of them? The thought came into his head unbidden. Hermione had seemed very shaken up, but she should have at least acknowledged him, right? Was she embarassed at having been discovered? Or was she upset at having Malfoy do... that.

Ron gradually found that he was able to move around once more and he set off for the Prefect's bathroom. He really needed to go, and it was closer than the Gryffindor tower bathrooms.

It wasn't long before Ron was standing in front of the door and stating the password.

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Harry turned towards the door when he heard it creak signifying that yet another person was entering. That door really needed a good old fashioned Muggle lock, he reckoned. Wait... that girl was still here wasn't she? Harry chanced a glance at the tub but was unable to see anything. Perhaps she had ducked out while Harry was examining that intriguing stain just below the flusher.

Harry turned back towards the door surprised to see Ron standing there. It was quite easy to tell it was Ron even without his glasses, as Ron's red hair was a dead giveaway. No one else at the school had hair at Hogwarts that color except Ginny, and Harry new she didn't know the password to the Prefect's bathroom. But wait... now Ron was getting undressed too?

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After entering the bathroom, Ron was surprised to find that someone had run a bath, but left it full. Doing a quick check on his underarms, Ron decided that it couldn't hurt for him to take a dip. It had been a hard practice after all. He quickly disrobed and tossed his clothes over into a corner. Odd, there were already clothes over there. Perhaps they had been left for the house elves to clean. Not giving it a second thought, Ron headed for a stall so that he could relieve himself before he got into the tub.

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AHA! She found it lying just a few feet away from where the bulk of the glasses were. One of the bows had snapped off. It was odd, they really did look like Harry's glasses. She'd never known him to leave them behind anywhere. But at the moment she was running out of breath, and she needed to surface. She'd been underwater for more than a minute now. She did a half-flip back into an upright position, and stood up. She gasped for air when she broke the surface.

"Hermione?"

She gasped, blushed a brilliant shade of pink, and quickly covered herself with her hands and arms and looked around desperately to see who else was in the bathroom. Her eyes quickly found Ron standing near the entrance to one of the stalls. Ron was also naked. Ron was... naked. Naked. Her mind couldn't seem to get past that point. She had always wondered what he might look like. Dreamed about it even. She'd never done him justice.

"Ron?" was all she could manage. Ron, suddenly realizing his own state of undress covered himself quickly with his hands. His hairline was indistingiuishable due to the color of his face.

"Hermione?"

"Ron?"

"Oh will you two knock it off already?" asked Harry with a laugh.

"Harry?" both Ron and Hermione asked in unison. They turned to look at each other only to blush again. Ron quickly sidled over into the stall he was going to enter and closed the door.

"Where are you Harry," asked Hermione quietly. She couldn't believe that Harry was here too. Just her luck. She'd been attacked by Malfoy, and then displayed herself in front of Ron and Harry. Could this night get any worse?

"I'm under the invisibility cloak," Harry answered. "And yes, I'm naked too."

"Well you saw us," sputtered Ron from his stall. "You saw me and Hermione-"

"Hermione and me, Ron," corrected Hermione still standing in the tub with her arms across her chest.

"Yes, well... in any case, now it's your turn Harry."

"For goodness sakes Ron, you see me naked in the showers every night after Quidditch practice. Don't be dense," Harry said.

"Yes, but this is different," Ron spluttered. "It just is."

"Right." Harry had decided that enough was enough. He just wanted to get out of this silly situation. He strode out into the middle of the bathroom and tossed the invisibility cloak to Hermione. She reached up to catch it as it flew at her, and despite not having his glasses on, Harry was treated to a spectacle he would not soon forget. No wonder Ron had a thing for her.

"Thanks, Harry," said Hermione gratefully. "I'm afraid I've broken your glasses."

"It's no big deal, you've fixed them for me countless other times. Besides, I'm beginning to think that I should look into contacts," said Harry with a wry smile. He glanced at the door Ron was hiding behind and beckoned him out. "Just get it overwith Ron. You don't have anything I haven't seen before."

"Sure, but what about Hermione. I have stuff she hasn't seen before."

"Oh I won't mind," said Hermione before emiting a little squeak. It was almost possible to see her beet red face through the invisibility cloak. Emboldened, Ron opened the stall door and walked to the middle of the room where Harry was.

"Harry," he said, nodding stiffly.

"Ron." Harry nodded back.

"Let's never speak of this to anyone." Unfortunately, at that very moment there was a squeak and the door to the bathroom opened for the fourth time that night. Professor Snape entered, with Draco on his heels.

"Well what have we here?" Harry and Ron quickly covered themselves, and tried to make a break for their clothes. "You will stand still the both of you," Snape demanded. Unwilling to upset Snape under the present conditions, the two gryffindors obliged. "This tale will make for interesting fodder in the teacher's lounge," he said, almost to himself. "Draco tells me that he was cursed by someone this evening. Neither one of you would know anything about that would you?" Neither Harry nor Ron said a word. "No, of course you don't. Doesn't look like you two have the wands to cast strong enough spells anyway." Malfoy sniggered loudly.

"Fifty points each from Gryffindor for... deviant... behaviour," said Snape. It looked as though he was trying not to laugh. His face had never looked uglier. "You'll also be wanting to find someone ot bring you something to wear back to your common room," he said. _ "Accio clothing."_

With a flick of his wrist, all of the unused clothing in the room flew at the professor and hovered at his wand tip. The red bra caught his eye. "Yours Potter? I never knew..." With that both he and Draco exited the bathroom taking all of the clothing with them.

"Greasy bastard," breathed Ron. "What are we supposed to do now?" he asked. Harry shrugged.

"Well you can join me under here," said Hermione, popping her head out from under the invisibility cloak. We should all be able to er- squeeze together and fit. Not as easily as we used to of course."

And so, the three Gryffindors, completely naked, and smushed together like bowtruckles in a faggot, made their way back to Gryffindor tower. It was the most uncomfortable moment of their lives together. None of them wanted it to end.


End file.
